


Chiming Spurs

by AmericanGuilt



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Mentioned Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Mentioned Genji Shimada, Mentioned Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Mentioned Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Mentioned Winston (Overwatch), Mild Language, Old Friends, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Reunions, Slice of Life, Slow Romance, but then i just wanted jesse to be happy ok?, but who doesn't, reader has the hots for jesse, this was meant to be angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanGuilt/pseuds/AmericanGuilt
Summary: It had been a long time, a very long time.But it sure was good to see him again.





	Chiming Spurs

Blending in was hard, especially in Mexico.

You looked like a tourist. Your unkempt hair attracted the eyes of many as you walked down the streets, it was messy and could probably use a wash. Your skin didn’t hold the sort of glow that many of the country’s natives did – Seattle, the city you currently lived in, didn’t normally boast nice, sunny days – and your style clearly wasn’t suited for ninety-degree heat. On top of that, your Spanish was terribly rusty. You hadn’t spoken a word of the foreign language in nearly six years, and it showed.

You didn’t fit in. Although Winston had told you on numerous occasions that you didn’t _need_ to fit in for this mission, but old habits die hard. You were accustomed to blending in, vanishing with the crowd as if you had never been; it’s what made you comfortable. After years of trying to disappear, it felt like it was second nature to wear a different skin and pretend to be someone else. But here, on this mission, you were without an alias or false identity to hide behind.

You were just acting as yourself.

It had been a long time since someone had asked you to be yourself, but Winston had. When you had accepted the recall message (after attempting to ignore the offer for months), the newly formed Overwatch had only wanted _you_ , they didn’t want the prestigious private investigator façade you boasted or the fake persona you gave to your clients, and it was a bit nerve-wracking. Some of the old members had known you in the past, and they could see how broken down the years had made you. Luckily, most of them were in the same boat as you, they too were tired and hardened by the real world. Except maybe Lena, she was just as bubbly as ever.

Still though, despite having certain connections, you were never a part of the original Overwatch, you had been Blackwatch, a black ops agent meant to clean up messes no one else wanted too. These people of the recall knew _of_ you, but they did _know_ you. But this comforted you in a way, knowing the agents of Overwatch would never be able to see just how tired you really were.

But now, this mission in Mexico was about to throw your sense of contentment under the metaphorical bus.

Winston had told you to wait in the middle of the city square. The ape had told you the agent who would be partnered with you was known for being ‘fashionably late’ and you would most likely have to be patient when you two were to group up, and that was exactly what you did.

You had been standing in the middle of the city’s square for nearly an hour, and the agent had yet to show. You had perched yourself against the side of a building, your back and raised foot casually rested against brick as you smoked. This had been your fourth cigarette, and the contents in your cigarette pack were running dangerously low, as was your patience.

Had this agent been anyone else, you would have left a long time ago, finishing the mission on your own before moving on. This was different though, and you would be lying if you said didn’t want to see the agent you so patiently waited for.

You huffed out some smoke, the toxic chemicals exiting your lungs as you readjusted the hood covering your hair. You picked a few strands from your face, pushing them further back behind the hood with your free hand while the city life continued to bustle.

A mother played with a child in her stroller not far from where you stood, she dangled a toy before her baby and laughed after the little boy swiped the toy from her hand.  A group of children sat by the fountain, throwing in coins for wishes. They had politely asked you for some change earlier, and you had given them a few spare coins, enough to make them smile and offer thanks. You fondly watched them from afar, ignoring the car horns from the streets to listen to the children laugh, making a small grin tug at your lips.

You dropped your cigarette and it fell to the cement pavement before you promptly put it out with the sole of your boot. You reached in your pocket for another smoke but froze when you heard the familiar clinking of spurs. You let the wandering arm fall to your side, acting as if you didn’t hear the agent approaching with your head turned in the opposite direction.

Winston hadn’t told the other agent who you were (partly because you had asked him _not_ to), so your identity was a mystery to the man that took his sweet time approaching. Or maybe, for all you knew, he knew exactly who you were, and he was just toying with you for fun. You hoped it was the former option.

“Sorry I’m late. My drink kept me occupied for longer than I expected.” He said suddenly, closer than before, but he kept a good distance from you. His voice carried poorly due to the space and the noise of traffic, but you could still understand him. _Ah,_ you thought, _he didn’t know who you were. If he did, he wouldn’t be so cautious._

You shook your head and scoffed at his statement, slightly offended. “Good to know your drink is more important.” You said, crossing your arms and refusing to look at him. It was partially because you were stubborn but mainly because you wanted to keep him guessing.

The pause in the conversation showed that your actions did just what you had intended. Then, the sounds of chiming spurs reached your ears as he took two steps closer. “Hey now, no need to be upset darlin’.” He replied, his southern drawl as sweet as ever.

A small smirk formed on your lips before you collected yourself. “Charming as always, I see. But it’s a little too late for that, considering I’ve been here for over an hour.” You muttered. “Didn’t you mother ever teach you never to keep a lady waiting.” You added, turning to face the agent.

Jesse McCree visibly tensed, watching closely as you pulled your jacket’s hood down. His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of your irritated expression. He was quick to recover though, a familiar smirk greeting you in a matter of milliseconds. You did the best you could to retain a look of anger, but you knew your eyes probably revealed your poorly kept front.

Age suited the cowboy quite well, it seemed. His chestnut brown hair was longer, framing his face and scruffy beard well while his eyes were all too familiar, reminding you of both the good and the hard times you two had shared. Jesse’s old-time cowboy aesthetic had remained relatively the same, leaving no doubts as to how he wanted to appear. He even sported a fucking serape. Your eyes gradually drifted over the red piece of material, only to find Jesse also had a metal, prosthetic limb. That was new…

Despite this though, he was just as handsome, if not more so, since you went separate ways. But there was no way you would ever tell him that. The _last_ thing that man needed was another ego boost.

“Well, had I known I was dealing with a lovely lady, I would have come here straight away.” Jesse eventually replied, tipping his hat in greeting.

You hastily turned away, fighting the urge to smile. _Damn it, you were supposed to be pissed at him._ “Excuses.” You muttered, walking in the opposite direction.

Jesse was quick to catch up to you. With four large strides, he moved to stand before you, blocking your path entirely with that dopey smile of his. “What, that’s all yer givin’ me?” He asked, trying to look offended. “No smile or hug? Come on beautiful, you can’t keep that stoic act up forever.”

Leave it to McCree to have you fumbling over your words like a nervous schoolgirl.  “Beautiful? What even - are you kidding me? Keep calling me shit like that and you’re not getting any sort of attention.” You said as if you hadn’t missed his ridiculous pet names.

The cowboy noticed you blunder and chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it, sweet pea.”

You huffed but smiled with a shake of your head. “You are such an ass.” You sighed, moving to hug him. The cowboy said something smart in reply, but you ignored him, pushing your face into his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around him. Jesse was swift to reciprocate the gesture, mimicking your movements before he put his head atop of yours. _Damn, he even smelled the same._ You thought, inhaling the scent of tobacco and a faint spicy cologne.

You could have kissed him. Jesse was a sight for sore eyes; it was nice to see an old friend (especially one who wasn’t donning a mask to hide their identity). You had missed him more than you liked to let on; you squeezed him tighter, doing your best to convey this fact silently. Jesse seemed to understand as he mindlessly stroked circles over your back. “I missed ya.” He muttered quietly.

_Fuck, you wanted to kiss him._

“I missed you too.” You said, your reply muffled against his chest. Eventually, you pulled away from him, his warmth fading instantly, but you kept both hands on his upper arms. “Even though you’ve caused a major setback in the plan.”

Jesse laughed softly, swiftly moving to light a cigar between his lips. You didn’t bother asking where it came from. “Don’t be dramatic. I doubt Los Muertos is going anywhere. Besides,” He said, eyeing you after you took a step back. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

You nodded, nudging him aside so you could walk past him. “You better.”

* * *

The whole ordeal was meant to be a simple mission. Winston had tried to be subtle, pretending as if he hadn’t purposefully set the operation up just to reunite the two of you. The ape had played coy, saying it was a job that needed stealth and someone who knew the area well. Which would have been believable had Winston not been so openly worried about your mental health. He frequently asked about your wellbeing and he had even briefly mentioned that you should consider paying a visit to Doctor Zeigler.

Needless to say, you never visited Angela and the replies you gave to Winston’s apprehensive questions were often very vague and short.

The ape had tried a few other approaches prior, telling you that Genji had joined the recall and that he resided in Nepal, but this only made you unconsciously avoid the entire country of Nepal itself as if it had the plague. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to see Genji – he was one of your closest friends from Blackwatch – you just didn’t want him to see you in your current state. You weren’t the same woman you had been back then. The fall of Blackwatch and the loss of your Commander had affected you in more ways than one. Something Genji would easily notice if saw you now.

Your quickness to ignore your health made Winston take matters into his own hands, arranging for a mission to be carried out in Mexico. He purposefully partnered you with McCree and made sure you actually met with the cowboy as opposed to you doing the entirety of the work by yourself.

Now here you were, paired with an old friend who clearly saw what you had been trying so hard to hide – the sadness and tiredness your presence seemed to carry like deadweight. You could tell by the short, worried glances Jesse threw your way that he knew just what you hid under a bitchy, irritated attitude. Luckily though, he hadn’t said anything on the subject.

Well honestly, he really couldn’t while the two of you were being _shot_ at.

Winston said it was meant to be an easy mission, search and gather intel, then head home. But of course, things went down-hill rather quickly. Things always went wrong when you were paired together, whether it be accidental or completely purposeful.

That being said, since it was a condition that happened often, you and Jesse knew how to work together to get out of a blunder. Back during your Blackwatch days, you had trained together, learning and studying each other’s movements to better your chances on an operation, preparing for the unexpected situations you two would most certainly walk into.

Luckily, it was nothing too overpowering, but it _was_ extra work.

You had cursed Jesse, accusing him of things and reasons you didn’t even know or understand. The cowboy didn’t seem to mind though; he took it in stride and laughed at the allegations as you fought off a small group of pissed gang members.

“Always were cute when you got mad.” He had said at one point during the fight, firing his beloved Peacekeeper. He still had an incredible aim, none of his shots missed their marks. Not like that was a bad thing, you just wanted to find something to critique him on, but he was still as perfect as ever.

_The fucking asshole._

“Ever the flirt.” You had hissed back, quickly dodging a few bullets as you fired your handgun to retaliate against the gang. “You realize you owe me, right? I’m not just going to let this go.” You had said while you two were back to back, taking the world on together yet again. “You’re buying me a drink, and maybe even a serving of cheesy fries.”

The warmth of Jesse’s back – he was like a human heater – seemed to press closer to your figure at the sound of your command. “If yer stickin’ around, I’ll get you an entire basket of cheese fries. Hell, I’ll buy out the entire bar for you too, if it’ll get you to stay.” He had replied. You could hear the grin in his tone.

And that was how you had ended up in a quiet, family-owned bar. Jesse had stayed to true to his word, buying you cheese covered fries, a beer, and even a small milkshake – he knew you well.

You and Jesse were quiet for a while, Jesse coolly sipped his drink while you devoured a basket of cheese fries. The silence wasn’t awkward, you two were never ones for small talk, nor were you phased by drawn-out silences. It was just nice to be in his presence after all this time. Although you weren’t quite sure if he felt the same, but based off the small smile that would pull at his lips every now and then, you assumed he felt some sort of tranquility. You chuckled under your breath when he grinned once more after you offered a small cheesy fry.

“Yer sharing? Is the world coming to an end?” Jesse said but took the fry nonetheless. He popped it into his mouth and gave your arm a teasing shove.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the world is in a pretty shitty state right now. So, yeah.” You smartly replied, pushing the rest of the basket towards Jesse who wordlessly accepted the leftovers. You pulled the chocolate milkshake before you close and sipped the sweet treat through a straw. The dessert had melted a bit, but it was still good.

“So,” Jesse began, taking his lone glove off to eat the rest of the fries. “As fun as it was tag-teaming a takedown of a Los Muertos HQ, we really haven’t had the time to talk.”

You took a sluggish sip of the milkshake. This was the part you were dreading. You had no desire to talk about yourself, considering he would surely comment on your worn-down state. “Yeah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You began slowly. “What have you been up to, cowboy?”

“Ah,” Jesse scratched the back of his neck with his prosthetic arm. “Well, ya know. I’ve been taking jobs here and there, moving from place to place. I suppose you could call me a gun for hire.” He said, seeming reluctant and almost guilty to admit it out loud. “I mainly stick to these parts – Mexico and sometimes the southern states. I know them the best.”

You nodded, unsurprised at his admittance; a lot of ex-Overwatch agents took to bounty hunting or mercenary work, it kept them on their feet and the jobs made decent money. Jesse though, seemed uncomfortable, like he thought you wouldn’t approve of his lifestyle. “It makes sense that you hang out in this general area.” You commented, mainly to yourself. You took another gulp of milkshake before continuing. “Ever since I joined the recall, I’ve learned a lot of agents have become mercenaries. It’s not a bad thing, Jess.”

“Nah, I know. It’s just…there ain’t a lot of options for me, for obvious reasons.” Jesse replied, but he seemed to ease up a bit.

You gave him a soft smile. “You don’t need to explain. I get it.” And you did. Jesse had illegally left Blackwatch, putting him on America’s most wanted list. Last you had heard, the reward for him was around sixty million. You were a bit surprised there wasn’t a bounty on your head too, considering you and Jesse had left Blackwatch _together_. But thankfully, that was not the case. “Is it hard?” You asked, referring to his job occupation.

Jesse gave a quick shrug. “Not terrible. Had a few tough jobs, but nothing that would put me out of commission.” He finished his whiskey before ordering another.

Your eyes quickly skittered towards the prosthetic on his left arm, you couldn’t help it. _Well then, how did that happen?_ You wanted to ask but remained silent, your observing gaze taking in every detail of the metal arm. It suited him, and it didn’t make him look any less handsome. You found yourself liking the way the dim blue lights in the prosthetic would continuously brighten and dull as the seconds passed.

A sigh passed your lips before turning away your pointed stare, shaking your head to silently curse yourself. _Damn, you had it bad for this man._

“Enough about me. How you been managing, darlin’?” Jesse asked, pulling you from your thoughts. His question seemed innocent enough, but you had known him long enough to realize there was a hidden meaning behind his words.

It was obvious he hadn’t forgotten the night Commander Reyes was pronounced dead. You knew better than to think he would overlook the night you had cried and bared your entire soul to him, revealing the broken woman who had reached her wit's end. You wondered if he remembered the way he had caressed your skin, or how he had held you close and whispered words of comfort as you fell asleep in his arms.

“Fine.” You replied rather quickly, dismissing his question as if it meant nothing. As if you weren’t forever grateful for everything he had done that night many years ago. “I’ve been doing fine.” You said again, emphasizing each word as if doing so would hide anything. “I am, ugh, living up in Seattle now. I’ve been getting by as a private investigator.”

Jesse clearly noticed that you were trying to change the subject, not like you did a good job of concealing that fact, but he didn’t pry. “P.I.? I suppose that not too shocking. You’ve always been good at that kind of thing.” He was giving you an easy out, but he still looked a bit worried; his brown eyes had that familiar gleam to them.

“Spying on people?” You offered, teasing him to lighten the mood again.

Jesse chuckled and shook his head. “I meant how you could track and follow clues, but I yer good at that too.”

You had finished your milkshake and Jesse had offered to buy you another beer, to which you gladly accepted as you and Jesse continued to casually chatter, swapping stories, telling of the adventures you two had been on during your time apart. But mainly, you were doing all the listening. Compared to the cowboy, your stories were rather tame, but then again, you both knew he was grossly exaggerating but you didn’t mind. You were happy to hear him talk, listening to the familiar sweet southern accent he possessed. It was music to your ears. _Had he always sounded this pleasant?_ You couldn’t be certain. His voice had regrettably been a memory that had faded with time.

Five years had made you forget a lot of little things about Jesse. You had forgotten how much he liked a good, smooth whiskey – he had drunk nearly three glasses already – and that his eyes lit up whenever he spoke about something he loved, or how his small dimple would pop out from behind his scruff when he flashed a real, genuine smile. You had forgotten how touchy he was, or maybe you had just never noticed it in the past. But now, things were different, and you found yourself feeling the heat of his hand whenever he would nonchalantly touch your arm or outer thigh.

“You got anyone special in your life?” McCree asked.

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, taking you completely off guard. In reality, Jesse had just finished his story and he was merely making friendly conversation, but he sure did have timing. _Of course_ he would ask something like that when you were thinking about sticking your tongue down his throat. “Well, uh,” You began, at a loss for words.

_Pull yourself together, idiot_. You thought to yourself. _Keep your shit together._

“Unless you count a few hookups and my doorman flirting with me, then no. It’s been a little lacking for me in the romance department.” You eventually answered, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “What about you?” You curiously inquired.

Jesse laughed softly before lifting his cowboy hat and running a hand through his hair. He itched the top of his head but promptly put his hat back on soon after. “Same goes for me too. Not a lot of people are lining up to court a wanted man.”

You gave a hum in reply. “I’m pretty sure the ridiculous charm you possess could make anyone forget about that.” You said, meaning for it to be a joke, but it was basically a veiled confession on your part…romance wasn’t your strongest suit.

During your time in Blackwatch, you and Jesse had been friends. You hadn’t minded at the time, considering you hadn’t seen Jesse in any sort of romantic light. You two had flirted a bit, but Jesse flirted with everyone; you never took it seriously. He had always been a good friend. You did pretty much everything together back in those days, training, eating in the mess hall, watching terrible B-movies until you fell asleep, but it never seemed to be anything other than friendship.

Things had changed though after you left Blackwatch together.

In a separate atmosphere, one where you weren’t surrounded by other agents, things became more intimate – not physically, but emotionally. You and Jesse had been close before, but when you spent months on the road together with no one else, it felt like it was you and Jesse against the world, and you had loved every second of it. You felt _alive_ with him.

But after the Swiss headquarters explosion…you just wanted to be alone, to have some time to mourn over the loss of your Commander on your own. So, you left him behind in a shitty, backwoods motel with a parting kiss on his cheek and an apology on your lips. You hadn’t given him a phone number, or a way to contact you. Hell, you hadn’t even thought of it. You just left.

It wasn’t until months after you parted, as you sat alone in your new apartment with a bottle of booze, you realized that you loved him. It hit you _hard_ , and by the time you wanted to contact Jesse, he was nowhere to be found. He had seemingly dissipated into thin air, like a ghost.

Yet, here you were now as if no time had passed at all.

Jesse had given you a disbelieving look before he huffed a laugh. “Don’t patronize me, darlin’.” He said, digging in his pockets for a cigar to smoke.

_I’m being serious, Jesse_. Was what you wanted to say, but instead, you pulled out the lighter in your pocket and offered the cowboy a light. He offered a mutter of thanks before he leaned in. You watched as his eyes looked down to the flame of your lighter, it flickered and brightened the area around his face that had been shaded by his hat. You could see the little freckles that littered his cheeks and nose – normally, they were hard to spot from a distance since his skin was so tan.

Your gaze darted in another direction before you released a soft smile, your eyes landing on his mechanical prosthetic once more, but this time, Jesse caught your stare. “It’s that bad, huh?” He asked after he moved back, smoking his cigar. His tone was playful, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it.

“No,” You said, putting your lighter back into the pocket of your jeans. “It’s not.” Jesse’s eyes met yours, looking to make sure you were telling the truth. Once he found what he was looking for, he sighed, making cigar smoke waft into the air around you. It was a familiar scent, one different from your cigarettes, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “Can I -” You began, your hand and unconsciously reaching to touch the artificial limb, only quickly to pull it back a second later.

Jesse smirked. “Knock yourself out, sugar. I won’t bite.”

You sent him a warning gaze, your expression even. “Don’t make it weird.” You grumbled, your hand already moving to touch the cool metal of the prosthetic. The material was smooth to the touch and the little lights implanted in it shined bright at the contact. _Maybe the lights were connected to what he touched?_ Your hand drifted down the limb to touch Jesse’s fingers. You felt the bumps of every individual piece, tracing the metal that permitted the digits to move. “Can you feel that?” You questioned lightly, touching the pad of his index finger.

Jesse nodded, wriggling his fingers under your tough. “Yeah, but it ain’t the same as this one.” He said, lifting his other arm up for comparison.

Humming in acknowledgment, you continued to observe the arm, turning it and looking at every crevasse. Eventually, you reached the point where flesh met metal, and you lightly traced the scarred tissue connecting the two just below his shirt’s sleeve.

Jesse shivered.

“Did it hurt?” You asked, only to curse a moment later. _What a dumb fucking question._ You thought.

The cowboy didn’t seem to mind. “Sure did.” He said softly. You paused, glancing up at him. Jesse was looking at your hand, watching as you carefully traced the line between skin and machinery, but he quickly looked at you when you pulled away.

“How did it happen?” You enquired. “I mean, you don’t have to answer. I don’t mean to be pushy.” You quickly added, worried he would be offended.

Jesse gave you a small smile before taking another puff from his cigar. “Don’t mind. I reckon we’re a little past keeping things from each other.” He offered, easing your growing worry, only to make you feel guilty for being so reserved.

It took him a while to reply. He was hesitant, holding a distant look in his eyes before he took a sip from his whiskey. But eventually, he spoke, words hushed and meant for your ears alone. “Ran across a fellow when I was on a job.” He began, casting a swift glance to the patron across the bar to see if the man was listening. He hadn’t even spared Jesse a look, making the cowboy continue. “He managed to see my old Deadlock tattoo. Hell, I don’t even remember how, but he got a good look.” Jesse said. “He caught me off-guard. Was walking along one moment, and the next, I’m out cold.”

You bit your lip, knowing where this story was going. Your hand ghosted down his arm before placing a hand in his, trying your best to present some sort of support. Luckily, Jesse seemed to appreciate it. He squeezed your hand gently. “When I woke up, he had me tied down with a big fucking grin on his face. ‘Can’t believe you Deadlock scum are still runnin’ around.’ Was what he said after I looked down and saw…” Jesse stopped and his form grew visibly tense.

He shook his head, putting his cigar in a nearby ashtray before threading his fingers through yours, making you glad that he had taken his glove off prior. Jesse cleared his throat before speaking again. “The bastard ditched me after he got his laugh, leaving me to die in a puddle of my own blood. Luckily, I had someone searching for me, an impatient client. She found me, brought me to a hospital, and well, the rest is history.” The cowboy muttered, raising his prosthetic arm off the bar to move his fingers around.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you absentmindedly ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “What happened to him?” You asked, hoping (for his sake) that he wasn’t still walking around. Otherwise, he would be brought face to face with your beloved handgun.

Jesse hummed, but it was so low, so angry that it nearly sounded like a growl. “Tracked him down, took care of ‘em.” He said simply, taking another swig from his whiskey, his brown eyes avoiding your own.

“Good. If you hadn’t, I would have.” You admitted.

The cowboy prosthetic limb lifted to adjust his hat, tipping it towards you. He gave you a weak smile but kept a firm grip on your hand. “You don’t need to be all dark, beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but huff, rolling your eyes. “You’re an ass.” You grumbled, shaking your head.

The tenseness of Jesse’s form decreased; he was visibly relieved that the topic had shifted. “You love it.” He teased flippantly.

* * *

Saying goodbye was just as difficult as you had thought it would be, but you needed to return to Overwatch with your findings. The information you and Jesse had found (after you pretty much decimated the small Los Muertos base of operation) wasn’t exactly what Winston had hoped for, but it was better than nothing, you figured.

“Leavin’ so soon?” Jesse asked. He knew you had to return, but he wanted to rub it in your face a bit more for good measure.

You sent him an unamused expression as you walked out of the small bar together. “Oh, don’t act surprised. You know I came down here for a reason.” 

Jesse chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual since he had quite a bit to drink, but he still had a steady grip on sobriety. Then again, he had always been good at handling his liquor. “Thought that reason was to see me.” He wriggled his eyebrows at you, making you scoff lightly.

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy.” You retorted, traveling down the sidewalks of the city to the square where you two had previously met. And, since it was a Saturday night, the city was booming with nightlife. “But it was nice to see you.” you added after passing a street performer playing the guitar.

“You too, sweet pea.” He replied before hastily wrapping his arm around your side, pulling you close to his figure as you walked. You grunted at the sudden contact but were silent after. You didn’t complain or bat him away as you would have years ago. There was no telling when you would be able to see him again, and you sure as hell didn’t want to spoil anything.

Nevertheless, it seemed all good things had to come to an end.

You two reached the city square where a dark, inconspicuous car was parked, waiting to pick you up across the street. You reluctantly pulled away from the cowboy, his rich scent leaving with your movements, putting distance between you. “Well, this is me.” You muttered, head bobbing towards the car for Jesse to see.

Jesse’s brown-eyed gaze drifted across the street, and he nodded when he spotted the vehicle. “Alright,” He said, his eyes squinting from underneath his hat before he met your stare once more. Jesse sighed and itched the back of his neck. “Guess this is goodbye.”

You pursed your lips, shuffling close to him to hug him. You wrapped your arms around him; he was quick to follow. “Not forever.” You whispered, hoping Jesse could hear them over the traffic.

“Better not be, or I’ll have to hunt ya down in the afterlife.” Jesse replied, making you chuckle against his chest.

“Since when do you believe in – oh, shit!” You said, quickly pulling away from Jesse’s grip before digging around in your jacket’s pockets, feeling around for a sheet of parchment.

Jesse’s countenance twisted into confusion, but he remained silent when you shoved a small card towards his hands. “Here.” You offered. The cowboy glanced from you to the small sheet of crumpled up paper in your palm, but he still took it after a moment. On the parchment, your alias, email, and phone number were clearly printed, organized in the layout of a business card.

Jesse sent you an amused look after reading what was on the paper, laughing at the alias you had chosen.

You couldn’t help but laugh as well; his dimple was so damn cute. “Hey, I don’t need your judgment.” You defended your false title. “And I’m giving you my number, asshole, so we can actually stay in touch this time.”

“Good, because you seemed to have forgotten last time.” Jesse said jokingly, but it made your stomach twist with guilt. The cowboy took note of your souring look as put a hand on your shoulder, his smile never fading. “Thanks, darlin’. I’ll be sure to give you a ring.”

Biting your lip, you nodded and embraced him again. “You better, cowboy.”

You and Jesse held each other for a few moments more before you muttered another goodbye and began to walk towards the car across the street. Sadness trickled through your being as you walked away, doing your best not to turn around.

“I will.” Jesse said, his voice a whisper against the loud traffic, but you heard it as clear as day.

You smiled.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was an experimental piece to get me writing again. I wanted it to be action heavy at first, and then I wanted some angst, but this happened instead. I'm not even sure what I could call this. Just some wholesome conversation I suppose? Let me know what you thought because I'm still debating if I like it honestly.


End file.
